Out of the Storm
by littlyon
Summary: Erzulie is revered and loved by all, and she is used to being the only god who no one speaks badly of. When a young peasant boy does just this, Erzulie is determined to clear her name, at the boy's expense. OC/OC
1. Chapter 1

**So my school just did this show****, and I fell in love with it. And such is the spirit of a fanfiction writer :D. I don't quite know where this story is going yet, but...whatever! Please read&review! **

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

It was dark outside, the rain pounding on the roofs of the peasants' huts. Lighting flashed nearly every minute, thunder crashing at almost the same time, terrifying all the peasants, even the adults. Many were desperately praying to Agwe, begging him to stop the storm, not to send Papa Ge to them this time.

All the children had been sent to one hut to stay, a hut on top of the hill, out of the way of the rising waters of the river. They huddled together, shivering in fear, as the wooden walls were blown back and forth around them. All the younger ones were sobbing, and even the older ones had a few tears streaking their brown cheeks.

"Please, Agwe!" one little boy cried out after a particularly loud crack of thunder drew shrieks from the children. "Please spare us!"

"We're only children! Have mercy!" a teenage girl joined in the plea.

"Mercy! Mercy!" the children cried in unison. "Have mercy on us!"

But the wind remained strong, the rain kept beating down, and the lightning kept flashing. The little boy who had started the plea to Agwe buried his head in his knees, quavering in fear. "Please," he whispered. "Please."

"If Agwe hasn't heard us by now, he won't hear us," the oldest boy said. "It's no use. The gods don't have any mercy anyway."

"Michel! You'll kill us all!" one of the girls gasped.

"But he's right," the little boy piped up, raising his head. "Why have the gods done this to us? Why don't they think about us, about our feelings?"

"Erzulie does," voiced the girl. "She gives us love."

"At our expense," Michel replied bitterly. "She just does it for her own enjoyment."

"How can you say that?" The girl glared at Michel. "Erzulie is kind and loving! She lets us be happy! Without her, our lives would be empty."

"What about the Ti Moune story, Ariane? Have you forgotten it?" Michel was nearly shouting now. "None of the gods showed any compassion! And they won't now!"

"They cried, Michel. The gods _cried_ when Ti Moune died!" Ariane cried. "They realized that they had been wrong and they felt bad for Ti Moune!"

"That doesn't change the story," Michel snapped. "She was a toy to them. They found her, played with her for a while, cried a bit when they broke her, then buried her in a tree and went on with their lives. She meant NOTHING to them!" he shouted.

Ariane didn't reply, simply staring at him in sadness and slight fear. Her expression was mirrored on the faces of the other children, who had halted their sobbing at Michel's outburst.

Michel sighed and fell silent. But he knew he was right. The gods didn't show restraint, and they didn't care about humans, no matter how much everyone else wanted to believe it. There was no use trying to convince the children of that. Michel pulled his knees to his chest and stared out at the storm, refusing to look at anyone.

"Michel?" the little boy tentatively asked after a long while.

"What?" Michel sighed.

"How do you know that the gods are like that?" the boy continued. "The story is just a story, isn't it? It never really happened, did it?"

"I suppose not," Michel allowed. "But-"

"Then how do you know? Have you seen the gods?" The boy said this with such a trustful, earnest tone that it brought Michel up short.

"Well...no," Michel finally admitted. Then, "What?" he snapped when he saw Ariane's slightly smug smile.

"Oh, nothing," she said innocently.

Michel scoffed and moodily stared out the window again. "I'm sick of this," he muttered, quietly enough so that no one could hear him. "Damn storm, damn kids, damn gods, damn Ariane." All Michel wanted was to go back to his own hut, out of the way of questions and children and girls, and read. Read and study. He was one of the few literate peasants on the island, and he intended to do something with his skills.

"Michel," came a low voice. Ariane's.

"Leave me alone, okay?" Michel didn't look away from the window.

"Michel, if you're wanting to read-"

"How did you know that?" This time, he did look at Ariane, albeit suspiciously.

"You always want to read," she shrugged. That was true enough, Michel knew. "But why don't you tell a story?" Ariane went on. "You know plenty, and you're good at telling them."

"Why would I want to?"

Ariane gave him a look. "Gee, Michel, maybe because you're bored and annoyed and because everyone else here is bored and scared and would like some entertainment and distraction!"

Michel sighed. She was right. "Fine," he said.

Ariane smiled at him, then clapped her hands together, catching the rest of the children's attention. "Michel's going to tell a story, everyone," she announced. "What would you like to hear?"

There was a brief pause, and then every child decided, "Ti Moune!"

Michel groaned inwardly. He really didn't care for the story-it was too sappy for him-and after he had just ranted on the role the gods played, he felt awkward talking about them in the context of the tale. He was about to refuse when he noticed Ariane giving him a look that said, "If you don't tell them the story, or if you alter it in any way, I will call Pape Ge on you."

So, sighing, Michel began, his voice becoming slightly deeper as the words spun out of his mouth. "Once on this island, the gods sent a storm, even worse than this one..."

And the rain kept pounding down on the hut, and the wind outside intensified, but the storm seemed to disappear as Michel led the children through the journey of Ti Moune, through her bargain with Papa Ge, through her affair with Daniel (here he left out a select few details), and then through her death and rebirth as the Tall Palm, as the tree had come to be called.

After hearing Ti Moune's story, the peasants, even the children, always expected to look outside and see the sun shining over the storm's devastation. But when Michel's voice stopped, having finished the story, the children once again heard the claps of thunder and the roaring of wind outside the hut. The storm was still going strong.

A few of the little ones sniffled, preparing to burst back into sobs. Ariane looked at Michel again, and he quickly began a different story, one he'd read, successfully distracting the children from fear.

On it went, for hours, the storm never halting or changing its intensity. By the time Michel ran out of stories, his throat was parched, and a great amount of the children had fallen asleep, the rest seconds away from dropping off. Michel himself was exhausted from keeping up the storytelling for as long as he had, and gratefully closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the hut.

Ariane was the only one awake to see the storm end.


	2. Interlude 1

Interlude 1

_"They're perceptive, those children."_

_ "Of course they are, Agwe. Children often have more wisdom than adults."_

_ "The way they see us...I do find it interesting."_

_ "As do we all. I don't like that boy, though."_

_ "I didn't know Love was capable of dislike."_

_ "Well, what would your reaction be if someone said you had no compassion and only did what you did for your own amusement?"_

_ "I would correct them on the compassion area, but the other part is true for me. I enjoy sending rain and storms."_

_ "It's different for me, Agwe. I'm the one the women love. I'm the favorite goddess of most people. To have someone, especially a teenage peasant, specifically speak against me is...is..."_

_ "Unusual?"_

_ "Unheard of is more like it."_

_ "Maybe you should teach him a lesson."_

_ "Wouldn't that just prove his point?"_

_ "Perhaps, but does one boy really matter?"_

_ "You would have me use him? Like we did to Ti Moune? We promised never to do that again!"_

_ "No, you promised. Asaka said she'd try not to. Papa Ge didn't say anything. I just agreed. I never promised. And besides, for the sake of keeping your name..."_

_ "That is important, but...he's just one person. The entire island doesn't hate me."_

_ "He could influence them. Having even one person on your bad side is dangerous in any case. Remember?"_

_ "'Should hatred befall you, then fall you shall.'"_

_ "Exactly."_

_ "But that's just a saying, Agwe."_

_ "You of all gods should believe the truth in sayings."_

_ "Why are you being so persistent about this?"_

_ "Because I care about you, Erzulie. You're like my sister, and I would hate it if you did 'fall,' as the saying puts it."_

_ "Nor do I. But even so, I don't want to hurt anyone else. Even that boy."_

_ "Who says you would have to hurt him?"_

_ "...What?"_

_ "Who says you would have to hurt him?"_

_ "Do you mean at all, or just at the end?"_

_ "Oh, at the end. These things don't have to end unhappily."_

_ "It will if Papa Ge gets involved. And don't try to tell me that he won't. He always wants in on these things."_

_ "Well, let's just see how things turn out, hm?"_

_ "So I don't really have a choice in the matter now? Did you really do this for my sake, or was I just a ruse for you to be able to play with humans again, Agwe?"_

_ "Would I ever do such a thing?"_

_ "Oh, hush. Now, who do we involve in this? I was thinking that boy and-"_

_ "You seem eager to get started, Erzulie."_

_ "If I have no say, I may as well embrace this."_

_ "Fair point. But no decisions yet."_

_ "What? Why?"_

_ "We need to tell Asaka and Papa Ge before we decide anything. They may have some input."_

_ "But-" _

_ "I thought you didn't _want_ to do this, Erzulie..."_

_ "Agwe, you can shut up. And don't give me that innocent grin of yours!"_

_ "Come on, Erzulie. Let's go tell the others. This storm has ended."_

_ "And another is brewing."_


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! So yeah I updated quick...btw copyright Rosa Guy and Flaherty+Ahrens, from now on until the end of the story. Just saying.  
>Also, I apologize beforehand for this being totally out of accordance with Haitian mythology...the story kind of writes itself and disregards stuff like that...<br>**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Ariane didn't sleep that night. Even when the storm had ended, and there were no more sounds of wind and rain, she stayed awake. She didn't quite know why; her eyes were tired, her body was tired, so much that her head hurt, but her mind wouldn't allow her to sleep.

She kept thinking about what Michel had said about the gods, how they were selfish and unfeeling and only did things for their own benefit. It made her furious with Michel. Ariane revered the gods, held them in high regard, _worshipped_ them. The only god she was ever angry with was Papa Ge, for taking away lives. Ariane didn't think she could ever think of Papa Ge with a pleasant emotion. Asaka, Agwe, and Erzulie she liked, Erzulie in particular.

Which brought her back to thinking about Michel's adamant disapproval of the love goddess, and that brought her anger back. Ariane clenched her teeth, glaring over at Michel, who was sleeping against the wall of the hut. She just wanted Michel to stop lashing out against the gods, both because it made her angry and for his own sake. If the gods heard what he was saying...

Ariane shook her head. Why should she be concerned for Michel? It would be his own fault if the gods cursed him. Besides, he would deserve it. And Ariane wouldn't mind in the slightest. She didn't know how long she had wanted someone to give the boy a lecture, to yell at him. Michel had always infuriated her, since they were small children. Unfortunately for Ariane, her parents were good friends with Michel's mother, so the children would see each other often.

They fought every visit, and one of them always ended up getting slapped or punched, and the other ended up crying. Yet their parents just laughed and didn't stop it. Ariane as a child couldn't understand why, though now she knew. Their parents had thought of it as "young love," and wanted to let it grow.

Horrified that everyone would think of it this way, Ariane started consciously avoiding Michel, which pleased them both. This hut was the closest they had been, and the most they had talked, in years.

And Ariane wished they'd kept the distance.

She sighed, gazing out the window at the now-clear night sky. She could always just go home now; no one was stopping her. The rule was to stay in the hill hut during the storm. There was no rule stating that they couldn't leave right after, even if everyone was asleep. But then they'd wonder where she was...and they'd all worry. Ariane did not want to deal with a worried Michel.

But he wouldn't be worried, Ariane realized. Besides, she didn't care if he was. But she supposed she should probably leave some form of note behind, to let them know that she'd left.

"But I can't write," Ariane mused. "How can I let them know?"

She thought about this for a while, but when she continued to be unable to think of anything to do, she exclaimed "Oh, whatever!" loud enough to make several of the other children shift in their sleep, and left the hut, not bothering to be quiet.

The night was cool, drops of moisture from the storm still clinging to the air. Ariane smiled, closing her eyes as a small breeze brushed her face and swept her skirt out behind her, blowing away all indecisive thoughts. Without even one last glance at the crowded hut, Ariane set off into the night.

Ariane knew the terrain by heart; she had climbed this hill many times before. She knew every inch of dirt and grass, every leaf that clung to every branch. But, somehow, she couldn't manage find her way back down. In addition, she kept slipping on wet grass and leaves and fallen branches, nearly tumbling down the steep hillside tens of times. Stormy devastation did not lend itself to safety.

After perhaps an hour of slipping and catching herself, seconds away from grievous injury, Ariane decided to just go back to the hill hut. Despite her desire to be back home with her family, she doubted that she'd make it there alive at this point, if she managed to get back at all. For all she knew, she'd traveled to the other side of the island and the trees she stood behind looked down on the city of the grand hommes.

But if that was true, then she wouldn't be able to find her way back, either, she realized. Ariane sighed, and plopped down onto the wet ground, shivering slightly when the water permeated the fabric of her skirt. _I shouldn't have left the hill hut,_ she berated herself. _I have no idea where I am, where I've been, where I'm going...I'm lost_, she finally admitted. _And if I keep walking, I'll die. _

_ The only thing left to do is pray. Pray..._

"...and hope that the gods listen." Ariane's voice sounded strange in the darkness, and she shivered, uncomfortable and wary. Still shivering, Ariane shifted onto her knees and tilted her head skyward, towards the gods, closing her eyes and opening her mouth to begin a prayer.

Suddenly, a clear voice cut through the night air, weaving a new melody, one that had never been heard before, and never would be heard quite the same way again. Ariane froze, listening to the voice, her prayer stuck in the back of her throat, still waiting to be released. She found herself lost in the song of the voice, swept up in the unfamiliar, eerie melody that had rendered her motionless, physically unable to move a muscle.

Everything was still, all the trees, the birds, even the wind seemed to be listening to the song. Falling rocks had stopped short in their descent, instants away from toppling over into the stilled river. Such was the power of the song.

The waves of music traveled far, penetrating the walls of the huts in the village. And those in the next village...and the next...even the grand hommes, in their city on the other side of the island, heard it. To all, the song was beautiful. To all, it was terrifying. To all, it brought tears. To all, calmed them.

And Ariane was at the center of it all.

Anyone passing by wouldn't see her at first glance. All they would see would be light, bright, white light, spiraling and swirling up into the sky, all of it emanating from one point on the ground. Bright flashes of red and violet crackled through, splitting the glow down the middle of each spiral, seeming to drench the world in blood. Streaks of aqua shot through as well, trying their hardest to push away the red and violet, but all were pushed down, back to the black figure in the center of the light, kneeling, head thrown back, mouth open, who was becoming more obscured by light and darkness by the minute.

The peasants, seeing the bloodied light seep into the world, cried out and threw themselves to the floor, screaming prayers, shouting to Papa Ge, "Don't come around me!" For surely, this red light was the work of the death god. Surely he was coming. The storm had lasted long, many had died, and surely now the rest would as well.

The gods were angry. Had someone lived who should not have? Had someone died who should have lived? Had Agwe wrenched one too many trees from its roots, whipped apart one too many gardens?

Were the children all right?

In the end, the peasants prayed for this most of all. "Please, Papa Ge, stay away from the children!" they repeated, crying out in desperation and fear, fear of the bleeding light, and the eerie song that had not ceased.


End file.
